Counting and Waiting
by pursuit of dorkyness
Summary: I forced my eyes open, scanning my reflection again. Something dark and familiar at the corner of the store caught my eye. My breath hitched in my throat. Could it be? Was it possible that...? A/N: Set after FANG. Don't read if you don't want spoilers!


**A/N: **This is my first Max story, so please bear with me. I wrote this a few hours after finishing FANG. I couldn't sleep. I was overwhelmed with grief. Whoa. That sounded really emo. Sorry for that. Anyway, enjoy.

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I picked up the CD, staring at the cover. Like most of the other CDs on display in this section, it showed a group of boys, with long, dark hair covering their guy-liner embellished eyes. I put it down, sighing. I checked my watch for the umpteenth time in the past hour. Where were Iggy and the rest of the flock? I had told them three o'clock. Sharp. Ugh. That's what I get for leaving my family with a blind kid in charge.

I walked around the music store again. I decided to head over to the free music samples. Nothing like oldies music to get your mind off your misery. Walking past the store window, I snuck a glance at my reflection. I looked...different. Clean, yeah. I'll admit that was new. But, it wasn't just the dirt- and blood-free clothes. It was...my face. My eyes. They looked...dead. Lifeless. I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. I could feel my eyes moisten with tears. This was the main reason I hated to wait; to be left alone. Because leaving without company, leaving me alone, meant leaving me at the mercy of my thoughts.

I forced my eyes open, scanning my reflection again. Something at the corner of the store caught my eye. Someone, a dark figure, moved through the shelves of music. He seemed to be in a hurry. Again, a flash of dark hair got my attention. My breath hitched in my throat. Could it be? Was it possible that...?

I blinked rapidly. Acting on impulse, I followed the quick-moving figure, weaving in and out of the crowd. My heart pounding in my throat, I saw my target, only a few feet away from me. He looked so painfully familiar, I felt my throat tighten. Just as he turned a corner, I bumped into something - someone. Startled, I jumped back slightly before regaining my composure and resuming my...was stalking the right term? Whatever. I was following him. Following my heart. (And we all know what great consequences came out of that.)

I scanned the perimeter, looking for the boy. Drat! I lost him. Stupid man; bumping into me. Well, technically, I bumped into him; but if I say it was his fault, it _was_ his fault. I raced out of the CD shop, blood roaring in my ears. My mind reeling with ideas, freakishly familiar scenarios.

Then, lo and behold, I spotted his figure again! There he was; walking towards the exit of the mall. No, wait! I had to get to him. I had to pull him back. Beg him to return. Kidnap him, if it came to that! Whatever it took. I had to get him back. Just as I began to walk determinedly towards him, a voice called out to me.

"Max!" I swiveled around to find my entire flock waiting for me. It was a dream come true. We were all in the same place at the same time. It was just a matter of actually being together - a minor setback. But when I turned around once more, to look for the dark, looming figure of the boy who held my heart; he was gone.

"Max!" Someone from my flock yelled again. I ignored them. Was it Nudge or Iggy? I couldn't tell. I didn't care. All I cared about was the boy I loved. The boy I lost.

"Max! MAX!"

I woke up; my forehead was covered in sweat. Nudge was bent over me, sitting on the side of my bed. "Are you okay?"

I forced myself to nod, although it made my head hurt. "Yeah," I managed to murmur.

"Breakfast in ten," she said. "Iggy's making waffles." I stared at the wall blankly. "Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure." Nudge looked at me skeptically before walking out of my room.

I got out of bed and peered into the hall. Walking over to the bathroom, I swore under my breath. I'd had that dream again. Every time it was a little different. The setting would change; my clothes would change. The only things that wouldn't change were the dead, resigned look in my eyes; the pounding of my heart; and the fact that, in the end, I never reached him.

Fang.

I turned on the shower and held out my hands as I waited for the water to become hot. Fang. I still remembered him perfectly. I remembered the last day I'd seen him; all dressed up and as handsome as ever. How could I forget? It felt like just yesterday when I'd read the note he left, my hands shaking. Just yesterday. When I'd felt my heart shatter into a million tiny pieces.

But in truth, it hadn't been just yesterday. It had been exactly two months, twenty-nine days, nineteen hours, and six minutes ago. Seconds? I didn't know. I didn't count seconds. Not that I'd been counting at all. I mean, come on, right? I wasn't the type to count and wait.

Except that's exactly what I did. Count. Wait. Live, barely. Inside I was dying. Life was nothing without Fang.


End file.
